


A Fragile Thing

by Zutara90



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zutara90/pseuds/Zutara90
Summary: When Ajay is captured by Yuma, he is sent to Durgesh with no one to rely on except himself. Can he withstand Yuma’s ploys and escape her clutches? Or will he dwindle into nothing, until only a shell of his former self remains?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author’s note:** With Far Cry 4 being my latest obsession, I was really intrigued by the whole Yuma questline. The end of chapter two is actually what I thought was going to happen in the game while I was playing through it for the first time. Since it didn’t happen there, I just ran with it and wrote this story. It’s just another take on Yuma’s storyline and how I saw it going. As with my last few stories, I’m going to be posting a chapter a week, but I’m posting the first two chapters together because I feel like the first one could be really similar to the game, at least until you get into the context moving forward. Let me know what you guys think in the comments. And, as always, enjoy! 

* * *

 

**Chapter One**

It had been hard going for the Golden Path. Ever since they had broken through to the North, Pagan’s forces had been hounding them from all sides. And Ajay was right in the thick of it. He had been instrumental in capturing several outposts in the North that were now serving as the front line for the Golden Path.

Ajay was on his way toward one of them, the truck’s headlights cutting through the night. Sabal had called him in earlier, said he had an urgent mission. It was time to find out what was going on.

Ajay parked his vehicle and stepped out, grabbing his gun from the passenger’s seat. Sabal broke away from the group of men he had been talking to and strode over.

“Sabal, what’s going on?”

Sabal seemed restless and worried. “We’ve just gotten word from one of our spies in Yuma’s camp. They’re holding over twenty prisoners in a cave to the East. They’re all to be executed at dawn.”

“How have we not heard about this until now?” Ajay asked, disbelieving.

“Communication has been spotty at best. We’re lucky we even received the message in time.”

“Alright so what’s the plan?”

“I’m sending you in to scope out the situation. It’s too risky sending a frontal assault. They could kill the prisoners before we ever get to them. Alone, you can sneak into the caves. Once you’ve located the prisoners, you can defend them while we attack from the main entrance. I’m sorry to ask this of you, brother, but I would trust this task only to you.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I’ll do it. Anything to help.”

Sabal clasped Ajay’s shoulder. “Good. Then let’s get moving, midnight is fast approaching.”

* * *

It took them a couple of hours to get into position. Ajay had parted ways early on to climb the cliffs around the back side of the caves. He knew there had to be an alternate entrance somewhere. He just hoped it wouldn’t take him too long to find it.

Kyra must have been watching out for Ajay, because he found it in less than an hour. The entrance was small, less than two feet high. Ajay went down on one knee and peered inside. There was light from torches coming from within. Ajay pulled out his radio to tell Sabal.

“I’ve found the entrance. I’ll let you know when the prisoners are secure.”

“Copy that, Ajay. We are in position and ready for your signal. Good luck, brother.”

Stowing his radio, Ajay went down on all fours and crawled into the darkness. The passageway let out onto a ledge high up on the side of the cave. It was a perfect vantage point to survey the large cavern. There were torches lit along the walls and a steady trickle of water coming from somewhere high above. But no guards that Ajay could see. Good. Maybe the prisoners weren’t as heavily guarded as Ajay had thought. Still, there were several other openings below that led to more passages. That had to be where the prisoners were held. And where the guards were stationed.

The climb down to the cave floor was treacherous, the slick rock almost making Ajay fall to his death on multiple occasions. He barely kept himself from crying out in one such instance when his fingers lost purchase and he slid several feet before catching onto another ledge further down. Though, after that, Ajay made it down without further trouble. He held his SMG up to his shoulder and picked his way over to the openings, stopping every now and then to duck behind a boulder and check his flank.

Ajay tread carefully through the tunnels, ready to put down anyone that might raise the alarm. The tunnel dead-ended in a small chamber. Rows of prison cells lined the walls.

But there were no prisoners. No guards.

Strange. How many cells did they have if they were holding that many prisoners and none of them were here? Suspicions aroused, Ajay backtracked and took the next tunnel.

Nothing.

Ajay was running now as he checked the last few passages. He slid to a stop at the end of the last tunnel, panting as he searched. Not a soul in sight. Frantically, Ajay pulled out his radio.

“Sabal, there’s no one here.”

“What do you mean? They’ve taken the prisoners somewhere else?”

“No, I mean there was no one here to begin with. No prisoners. No guards. I checked the whole system and haven’t seen a single person.”

“How can that be? The intel—” Sabal broke off.

“Sabal? What about the intel?”

His voice came back panicked. “Ajay, get out of there now! It’s a trap!”

Ajay was sprinting for the main entrance before Sabal had finished his sentence, dread hastening his steps. He was almost there, he could see the jeeps parked out front, headlights flooding the cavern. Sabal waved frenziedly next to the car, urging Ajay to greater speed.

Ajay never made it.

A mechanized beeping drew his attention a split second before a massive explosion sent him flying backwards and caved in the entrance. In a daze, Ajay rolled over onto his elbows, coughing the dust from his lungs. He was lucky he hadn’t been crushed by the rubble, but he had still been close enough to the blast for its full concussive force to takes its toll. Sabal’s voice came blaring over the radio, the intense ringing in Ajay’s ears dampening the sound.

“Ajay?! Ajay, are you there? Come on, brother, answer—”

There was a soft _click_ as the radio turned off and Ajay belatedly realized that it had not done so on its own. Struggling to turn his head, Ajay found himself at the feet of two men with Yuma glaring down at him from behind them, radio in hand.

 She smiled coyly. “How predictable. Sabal gets word that there are prisoners set for execution and he sends his little golden boy in alone. Pity, that he values their lives over yours, Ajay.”

It had been a trap. From the very beginning, they had been betrayed. And now Ajay was in Yuma’s clutches.

Ajay fought to get to his feet, to reach for his gun, to fight, to run, to do anything to escape this fate. But he couldn’t get his arms or legs to work properly. The best he could manage was to fumble along the floor, dragging himself a few paces away. He could hear Yuma chuckling behind him. Then a faint explosion coming from the rubble—Sabal was trying to break through. Ajay knew it was no use. They hadn’t brought enough firepower to get through that much rock and it would take them too long to go around.

Yuma voiced his thoughts. “Looks like you’re on your own, Ajay.”

Her demented laughing filled Ajay’s ears just as a sharp pain rammed into the back of his head.

Then everything went dark.

* * *

A howling wind ripped Ajay from unconsciousness. He sprang to his feet, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to warm up. It was freezing, so cold that his teeth were chattering. He was in a prison cell, one carved from stone. A set of steel bars were embedded into the rock on one side, leading out to a narrow stone corridor.

It was Durgesh, Ajay gathered. It had to be. He had heard stories about the horrors committed in the mountain prison. How most that were sent there were never seen again.

This was bad. But there was one tiny glimmer of hope—the cell door was open. In fact, all of the cell doors were, Ajay discovered as he made his way down the corridor. And there weren’t any guards either. As if they knew escape was futile. There was only the occasional prisoner huddled in a corner, mumbling to themselves, swiping at invisible foes. And that incessant wind that grew stronger with every step Ajay took. Soon, he figured out why.

Turning a corner, Ajay flung up his hands against the blinding sun that came streaming in through a large hole in the wall. It was maybe ten feet across and stretched from floor to ceiling. Ajay peered over the edge and knew that all was not lost. The drop was steep, over a thousand feet high. But it looked scalable. That was enough for Ajay.

He had to get out. Ajay was no fool, he knew help wasn’t coming. His only hope was to escape on his own and to do that, he needed supplies; most importantly—a grappling hook. It was surprisingly easy enough to craft one out of spare scraps he found lying around. It took maybe an hour for Ajay to scavenge the parts he needed—a loose bit of rebar curved just enough to function as a hook and several lengths of rope that Ajay tied together. The makeshift grappling hook wasn’t ideal and, had he been in any other situation, Ajay probably would have refused to use it, but he didn’t really have a choice. It was that or stay and be Yuma’s guinea pig.

So Ajay took his grappling hook to the sheer drop-off just outside his cell and, with a silent prayer, rappelled down the cliffside. The going was slow. He was moving with far greater care than he ever had normally. He didn’t have a parachute to bail him out after all. It didn’t help that the mountain gales were buffeting him with every step, sending him lurching to either side and blinding him with updrafts of biting snow.

After what seemed like hours and more close calls than Ajay cared to reflect on, his feet touched solid ground. But his ordeal was far from over. Ajay soon came to realize that he had only rappelled into the front courtyard of the prison. Filled to the brim with heavily armed guards. He would have to sneak past them, doubting very much that he could overpower them in a confrontation. And if he were caught? Somehow Ajay didn’t believe for a second that they would grant him the mercy of death. Or a second chance at escape.

A deep breath to steady his nerves.

Then he moved.

Like shadows dancing through water, Ajay weaved his way through the complex, dodging, sprinting, diving, and waiting; all the while straining to hear the faintest sound above his thundering heart. To hear a shocked exclamation, the sounding of the alarm, the annihilation of his one chance at ever tasting freedom again.

But none came.

He made it outside without incident and was then hidden from sight by the blessing and curse that was a storm picking up. It wasn’t until almost an hour of trudging through thigh-deep snow, surrounded by an impenetrable blanket of white, that Ajay began to realize he had nowhere to run. He would never make it off the mountain. Yuma would have the last laugh after all.

Only determination and sheer will kept Ajay walking for another hour, he refused to let them win. To let Pagan win. The world grew darker as a numbness spread throughout Ajay’s body. Because of the indistinguishable landscape, it took a few moments for Ajay to realize that he had stopped moving. His body had stopped responding to his commands. As he fell face first into the snow, the last thing he saw was a shadow creeping towards him. He could only assume that it was Yuma. And hope that she would let him die in peace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A distant sound tugged at Ajay, pulling him from his sleep. He followed it up and up and up until he could finally distinguish its source. Birds. It was birds chirruping merrily in amongst the sound of leaves soughing in the gentle breeze. The peace of it tore Ajay from his stupor more than the sound itself. It wasn’t right. He should be dead or locked in a cold, cruel prison. Not lying on what he realized was a comfy mattress surrounded by peace and tranquility and… sunshine, he took in as he opened his eyes. No, it was all wrong.

And then there was Amita, perched in a chair she had dragged over to his bedside.

“Ajay, you’re awake at last.”

Ajay propped himself up against the headboard. “A—Amita? What—where am I?”

“I would think that you would recognize it. It is your home after all.”

As she said the words, Ajay knew them to be true. He was indeed in the house of his mother and father, in the bedroom upstairs. But how he had come to be there, he still didn’t understand. “How did you find me?”

“With a lot of manpower and a great deal of luck. Nearly everyone in the Golden Path volunteered when we gathered search parties. Most we had to turn down lest we lose control of our hard-won territory.”

“But I wandered in that storm for hours. How did you even know to look?”

“Because I know you, Ajay. I knew if anyone had a chance of escaping that prison, it was you.”

Ajay didn’t know how or why Amita had found him, but he wasn’t going to question it. Not if it meant he was out of that hellhole. Not if it meant he could get back to overthrowing Pagan’s regime. But he had quite the score to settle with Yuma first. Speaking of which—

“Did you find the traitor?”

Amita only gave him a questioning look. Odd, considering the Golden Path’s history with traitors. They didn’t exactly take them lightly.

“The man who sold us out? Who led me into that trap! He nearly got me killed!” Ajay snapped. “Or worse,” he added quietly.

“Of course, of course,” Amita answered, growing stern. “Of course we found him. And dealt with him appropriately. We do not suffer traitors in the Golden Path.”

“Wait. You killed him? Don’t you think we could have questioned him or something? He had to have known something about Yuma’s plans.” Why would they have killed him? It wasn’t like Amita to let such a valuable asset be silenced, traitor or not.

“We had to make an example of him. The discouragement to others was far more valuable than any information we would have gleaned.”

Before Ajay could reply, a man approached from behind Amita.

“Amita, we have news.”

“What is it?”

The man leaned in close to her ear, whispering in tones too low for Ajay to pick up. He simply watched on in silent bewilderment.

With a last glance shared between Amita and the man, she dismissed him, saying, “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

Ajay could hold his silence no longer. “What’s going on?”

With a heavy sigh, Amita leaned in closer, her forearms resting on her knees, hands clasped between them. “I had hoped to keep you out of this for as long as possible, Ajay.” She shook her head slightly. “But now, I have no choice but to ask for your help.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll help as always.” A spike of fear stabbed into Ajay at her reticence. She’d never been shy to ask for his help before.

Still, she remained silent.

“Just tell me what it is, Amita,” he bade.

Amita’s eyes met Ajay’s and she straightened in her chair. Finally, she said, “Sabal has gone rogue.”

No. No, it couldn’t be.

Ajay reeled at the news. “No. No, no, no, Sabal wouldn’t do something like that.” Ajay searched Amita’s eyes, but found no answers.

“Apparently he would. And he has. He’s taken half of the Golden Path with him.”

She still seemed unsettled. More so than Sabal simply leaving warranted. Even if he had split from Amita, they still had the same goal. So she would have to recruit more people. They had the time to do that now that more than half of Kyrat was held by rebel forces and northern Kyrat was liberated.

“Amita, what aren’t you telling me?”

A pause.

“He plans to march on Pagan’s compound. He’s gotten it into his thick skull that he can end this war now.”

“I don’t see the problem. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Amita scoffed and stood, anger filling her steps as she stalked around the room. “Men and their bravery bullshit. They think it can solve everything!”

Struck dumb by Amita’s unexpected ire, Ajay blenched. Amita ploughed on with her rampage.

“The problem is, _Ajay_ , that even with half of the Golden Path at his back, Sabal has no chance to take that compound. It is too heavily fortified, manned, and armed. They won’t even make it up the front steps before they are massacred! He is leading them on a suicide mission.”

Ajay couldn’t process what she was saying. Couldn’t come up with any intelligible response. It was all wrong. Sabal simply wouldn’t do something so reckless with his men’s lives. He was hell-bent on taking down Pagan’s regime, sure. But leading his men on such a risky mission? Sabal would never do that. His obvious love for his men was why he had gained so much favor in the first place.

Amita cut into Ajay’s silent reverie, grabbing him by his arms. “Ajay, I need to know where Sabal has gone.”

That statement, more than anything, confused Ajay. Why would he know more than Amita? “How should I know where he is? If you can’t find him, then I doubt I’m going to be of any help.”

“Sabal always liked you, always trusted you. He must have mentioned something, maybe even in passing.” She shook Ajay mildly, willing him to focus. Her words were even and clear. “Where is he hiding?”

Ajay brushed Amita’s hands aside, standing and walking around to the foot of the bed. “Look, Amita, I honestly have no idea. Believe me, I would help if I could, but any secret locations used by the Golden Path are ones that you already know.”

Switching tactics, Amita sprung onto his statement. She seemed almost desperate. “Alright, let’s go through those, then. Maybe listing them will trigger something.”

The seed of doubt that had planted itself in Ajay’s mind ever since he woke up was beginning to blossom, spreading its tendrils out to every inch of his being. None of this made any sense. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it just wasn’t right. From Sabal leaving and putting his people in danger, to Amita seeming so desperate for Ajay’s help.

He remained silent.

Amita took a step toward him, beseeching him with a gesture. “Ajay, are you listening to me? The locations.” An eyebrow raised, imploring.

Ajay retreated, keeping the distance between himself and Amita. That tiny voice in his mind was whispering to him, telling him not to trust anything. Not to trust anyone. “Amita, what’s going on here?” The words came out on a plume of breath.

 _Wait_. Another breath. Another cloud billowed forth. Ajay glanced out the window. The sky was sunny, warm. Then why could he see his breath?

As he formulated the question, the world began to flicker, like a stiff wind were tearing at the edges of his vision. Ajay blinked rapidly and shook his head in an attempt to clear his eyesight. But it did no good. The world around him was quickly devolving. The house started to burn in a flameless fire, ashes of walls and furniture floating away and disappearing into nothing. And it was cold. So bitterly cold.

Ajay slammed back into the dresser behind him. “What the hell?!”

Soon Amita’s face began to fray and dissolve. It drew nearer and Ajay sought a way to escape the _thing_ that was coming towards him. But it had him trapped against the wall.

It began to speak, but its voice had changed slightly, fluctuating between Amita’s and someone else’s. Its eyes bore into his and its words were calm. “Ajay, focus. Where is Sabal?”

Panic had truly set in and Ajay was beyond reasoning, beyond listening to “Amita’s” lies. “What is this? Who—who are you?”

The last vestiges of the Ghale family home faded away to reveal a cold, stone cell. The same one Ajay had escaped the day before. And right in front of him, flanked by two guards clad in crimson, was Yuma.

Yuma smiled. “Hello, Ajay.”

“Yu—Yuma?” Ajay had backed himself into the furthest corner of the cell with Yuma bearing down on him, only feet away. He racked his brain for answers, for anything to make sense of the situation. And then it hit him. She had drugged him. It had all been a hallucination. But then—

“You were the one who found me in that storm. You drugged me. Made me think Amita had come to rescue me.”

A scoff. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

At her pause, Ajay squinted in confusion.

“There never was a storm. There never was an escape.”

 _No_. No, it couldn’t be true. He had escaped. It had been real.

With wicked delight in her eyes, Yuma continued. “You saw what I wanted you to see, what you needed to see in order to believe it was real. No one is coming to save you, Ajay.”

Yuma backed toward the cell door, the two guards preceding her out of it. Ajay was too stunned and too heartbroken to express any sort of retort, to conjure any retaliation. The full extent of the hopelessness of his situation rammed into him like a charging rhino. He had never escaped. Had no hope of doing so now. He should have known it was too good to be true.

Still sucked into the corner, Ajay looked up once more at Yuma. The cell door clanged shut in front of her. That malevolent grin spread even wider across her face. “Welcome to Durgesh.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

A day passed without any sign of Yuma or the prison guards. No sign of any other prisoners either. The cell across from Ajay’s was empty. Sometimes he would hear faint murmurs or screams coming from down the corridor, but there was too sharp of a turn past his cell for him to see anything.

And so he waited. Waited and wondered what would become of him. If he didn’t die at the hands of Yuma, he was going to die from the prison itself. The days were piercingly cold, the nights dangerously so. He found that only the corner to the left of the door offered any sort of relief from the wind that never seemed to yield. Alternating between huddling there and getting up to pace around the cell was the only way he could keep relatively warm. He hadn’t been given any food or water either. Though he wasn’t entirely sure he would have taken it anyway given Yuma’s propensity for drugging her victims. 

Ajay tried desperately to stay awake. He didn’t want Yuma to pounce when he wasn’t looking. But after 48 hours of no food, water, or sleep, his body couldn’t take it anymore. As he drew himself into a ball in the corner, he found himself fading. He caught himself nodding off and tried to shake the weariness from his red-rimmed eyes to no avail. Ajay’s head sagged to his shoulder. In the next moment, he snapped back to attention.

But he was no longer alone.

“Mom?”

A teary smile greeted Ajay as he rose to his feet. “My darling Ajay.”

Ajay basked in the warmth of her words. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her. “This is a dream. You’re dead. This can’t be real.”

A sad half-smile at the assertion. “Of course this is a dream. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be real.”

“But why are you here?”

“Because you are in trouble, Ajay. And a mother always looks after her children, even when she is gone.”

The truth of her statement hit Ajay. He was in trouble. More than he had ever been in before. And he couldn’t see any way out of it. He blinked back the tears that welled in his eyes. “Mom, I don’t know what to do. I’m not going to make it.”

Tears leaked down Ishwari Ghale’s face, but her voice remained steady and soothing. “You can, Ajay. You can and you will. You _will_ escape from this prison. I cannot say how or when, but I know you will. And when you do, I need to you to run.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to leave Kyrat, Ajay. Leave and never come back.”

“But, I—”

“No! No, you don’t understand. You may not die in this prison, but you will in this war against Pagan. You fate ends here. That is why I had to warn you. I had to tell you to _run_.”

“How would I even leave? I’m stuck here, in Kyrat.”

From far away came a voice, muffled and indistinct. Ajay couldn’t make out what it was saying. He looked back at the cell door, listening intently.

“Hush!”

Ajay’s head snapped back around at his mother’s tone.

“Hush, my child. You need to listen. Go to the house, our house. To the Golden Path. They will find a way to get you out of the country.”

“Mom, the Golden Path isn’t at our house, they never have been. It had been abandoned when I came across it. Well, mostly,” he added to himself.

His mother looked down in confusion. “I guess a lot of things have changed since I left. It was such a long time ago. If they are not at the house, then where are they located now? At Shanath?”

“No, they…” Something nagged at Ajay, so small it was only a gnat flying around his head, drawing his attention away, trying to show him something.

“Ajay? Are you alright?”

He looked back to his mother. “Mom, why…why are you telling me this now? Why would you send me back here only to warn me away?”

Her face turned guilty and pained. “Can a mother not make a mistake? Can I not regret sending you here? To your death?” Before he could answer, she was kneeling, pulling his hands forward, enveloping them with her own. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. “Please, Ajay, _please_ ,” she begged. “Promise me you will leave. Promise me you will _live_.”

Ajay didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t right just to leave the Golden Path to Pagan’s tyranny, not after all they had been through. But he couldn’t very well deny his own mother either. Not when he knew what she said to be true. In the end, he decided it didn’t really matter. He would still have to break out of Durgesh first anyway. So he nodded his acquiescence. “I promise.”

Smiling, Ishwari stood and beckoned to Ajay, pulling him into a fierce hug. Ajay wrapped his arms around his mother for perhaps the last time, relishing the embrace, breathing in her scent.

It was wrong.

He would never forget his mother’s scent. How she had always smelled of flowers, of the garden she had tended so dearly at their home in the US. It had always comforted him, brought him peace. This woman smelled nothing of peace. She smelled of death and war and misery.

Horrified, Ajay shoved the woman away, that nagging voice now screaming in his ear. _Wrong!_

“Who are you?” he flung at the woman, still backing away from her.

Hurt filled her deep, brown eyes. “Ajay. How could you say that? I’m your mother.” She reached out to him, drawing ever closer.

He dodged sideways, circling her. “Stay back! You’re not my mother!”

Something was wrong here. Who was this woman? Ajay felt like there was an answer floating just beyond his grasp. But every time he went to reach for it, it slipped through his fingers like mist. In his distraction, Ajay stumbled over a rock behind him, flinging out his arms to catch himself on the wall.

“No, this isn’t right. This isn’t right,” he repeated to himself, mind reeling for answers. “You… you’re not…. This isn’t real.” And like a battering ram, the revelation punched him in the chest. He turned back to face the woman.

Only, it wasn’t his mother anymore.

“Yuma!” With a growl, he charged. “How dare you! How dare you use her!” he roared. In three steps, he was upon her, hands grasping for her throat. He never made it. One of her guards brought the butt of his rifle down on Ajay’s head, sending him sprawling to the ground. Dazed, Ajay tried to get to his feet, but failed.

“I told you it wasn’t working,” the guard hissed at Yuma.

“And I told you to hush!”

“He’s becoming resistant.”

Ajay blinked the blurriness from his eyes to see Yuma arguing with one of her guards, her face livid. It was a lieutenant, judging by his uniform, a hulking brute of a man, his heavily muscled body brimming with power. Yet Yuma remained unimpressed by his imposing figure.

“We do this my way.”

“There are other ways of making him talk. We’ve wasted enough time on your little science project.”

Faster than Ajay could see, Yuma struck. She had snatched the lieutenant’s arm and twisted it behind his back, pinning him against the wall. He groaned as she twisted it further.

“Don’t ever forget who’s in charge here,” she said with lethal calm. “You don’t have to like my orders, but you do have to obey them.” Not finding any sign of resistance on the man’s face, Yuma loosened her grip on his arm. Then snapped one of his fingers in half. He howled and collapsed to the ground, clutching his hand. Yuma glared in disdain. “Don’t ever question me again.”

Darkness was sweeping over Ajay, try as he might to fight it. The guards left at Yuma’s gesture and she followed closely behind, turning back only to lock the cell. She leveled one last loathing sneer at Ajay, frustration flickering behind her eyes. Then she turned and strode out of sight just as unconsciousness dragged Ajay down into oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As the days passed without any sign of Yuma, Ajay started to become more and more paranoid. It unnerved him how deeply she could get inside his head. It unnerved him more than he cared to admit. And it ate at him that he had believed the lies, even if only initially. He had believed they were real, wholeheartedly. Only the tiniest feeling deep down inside him had seen through the façade, had kept him from giving Yuma vital information on the Golden Path. But he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. He couldn’t trust anyone or anything. Not even himself.

Four days. It had been four days by Ajay’s rough count since he had been taken. No food. No water. Barely any sleep. And that relentless cold that meant he couldn’t rest even when he had a moment’s peace. It was all taking a heavy toll. Ajay’s strength and resolve were waning.

Later that night, Ajay was sitting in a daze of delusional paranoia when footsteps mixed with hysterical shouting echoed down the corridor. He rushed to the cell door, peering as far down the corridor as he could see. It didn’t take long for two guards he had never seen before to drag a third man between them towards the cell opposite his. The prisoner struggled violently against them, but was no match for the two of them combined. They jerked open the cell door and flung the man inside, locking him in and striding away without a backwards glance.

The heavily bruised man pushed himself to his knees and seemed to realize for the first time that Ajay was watching him. The man gave Ajay a weak smile and sat himself in the middle of the cell propped up on his arms, his legs stretched out before him. Then he studied Ajay further and his eyes lit up. He flew to the cell door, pressing his face against it, hands grabbing the steel bars on either side. “You! You’re Ajay, aren’t you? Ajay Ghale!”

Ajay said nothing, instead offering a wary look in return.

“Everyone has been talking about you. And now fate has led me to you. I was thrown in here for hunting sambar on Pagan Min’s ‘royal lands.’ Can you believe that?! Like he doesn’t have anything better to do than hoard all of Kyrat’s meat for himself. So I told myself that if I ever got out of here, I would join the Golden Path. And here you are. The son of its founder right in front of me, like a blessing from Kyra.”

The man’s hopeful gaze was met only by Ajay harsh stare. “Shut up! Just shut up.” Ajay was clutching his head between his arms, chanting silently to himself. _It’s not real. It’s not real._ Eventually, the words rose unbidden from his throat until he was shouting at the man across from him who seemed frightened by Ajay’s outburst. “It’s not real! It’s not real!” He was done with the cons, done with the lies. A name sprung from his lips before he even knew who it was. “Yuma!! Yuma, I know it’s you!” he bellowed into the open air. Swiveling and surging to his feet, Ajay faced his empty cell, a maniacal rage spreading across his face. “Why don’t you come out and face me yourself, you coward! Stop hiding behind these phantoms!!”

The man behind him started laughing as the walls melted. The hallucination dissolved faster than it ever had before. In seconds, it was gone.

Ajay blinked and found himself strapped to a wooden chair, hands bound behind the back and ankles tied to either leg of it. How had he gotten there?

“What—?” he asked as he lifted his head.

Just as a fist smashed into his cheek. The punch left his ears ringing and it took a moment before he could look up again. One of Yuma’s regular guards was standing a foot away from Ajay, fists clenched, ready to strike. This guard was smaller than the other, but lithe and powerful. The look he was giving Ajay was more ominous than his menacing pose. A look of such bloodlust that Ajay’s stomach rose into his throat. Further behind him, on the other side of the cell, was Yuma’s lieutenant, one of his hands bandaged and bruised. And between them, silhouetted by the light from the hallway, was Yuma.

“You wanted to see me,” she teased. “Well, here I am, in the flesh.” She stalked closer. “It seems as though you’ve gotten a little too good at seeing through my visions.” Yuma bent over until her face was inches from Ajay’s. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t.”

Turning her head slightly, Yuma gestured to the guard on her left then backed away. With a sadistic grin, the guard came forward, already throwing his next punch. It landed straight into Ajay’s nose, crushing the bone and sending blood gushing down his chin. Bright lights popped into Ajay’s vision so he couldn’t see the next blow coming. The punch knocked the wind from Ajay as it thrust into his diaphragm. The assault paused as Ajay fought for breath.

Yuma’s voice slithered into his ears. “After what happened last time, I decided to take my lieutenant’s advice. There are indeed other ways of extracting information from you, Ajay. And none of them as pleasant as what I have offered you multiple times. I’m giving you one last chance. Tell me where the Golden Path headquarters are.”

Ajay was still panting from the blow, but he willed himself to look Yuma in the eyes before he signed his own death warrant. “No.” The word was breathy and weak. But it was all he had left. The only thing giving him any sort of strength was the knowledge that the Golden Path would continue on without him. Would keep fighting in his stead. Without that, he had nothing. So he would cling to it with whatever fortitude he could muster.

The faintest smile grew on the guard’s lips.

An imperceptible nod set the guard loose once more. He came at Ajay with everything he had, punching and kicking and striking. He ground his heel into one of Ajay’s feet, breaking several toes. Ajay screamed at the beating and his cries only seemed to egg the guard on further. After a few minutes, the man pulled out a knife, the edge gleaming in the light. Ajay tried futilely to pull away, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t escape what was to come. Yuma’s voice broke through the terror that had infected Ajay’s mind.

“Tell me where the Golden Path is!”

Ajay grasped onto the distraction Yuma had provided, using it to refocus, to gather himself. Weakly, and almost with a hint of regret, Ajay said, “No. I will never tell you where they are.”

Yuma scowled and turned to her guard. “Do it,” she ordered, furious.

The knife sliced across Ajay’s chest. A shallow wound, but painful nonetheless. They didn’t want him to bleed out too quickly, Ajay realized morbidly. Again and again and again the blade struck until there was no place left to cut. Then the guard flipped the knife in his hand and plunged it into Ajay’s thigh. A piercing wail rent the frigid air. Not ceasing his attack for a moment, the guard placed his foot on Ajay’s arm and kicked him over sideways, chair and all, pulling the knife from his leg in the process. Ajay’s head slammed into the stone floor, blacking out his vision for a split second. Then the agony returned as the guard kicked Ajay’s torso over and over. Several ribs cracked. Blood sprayed from Ajay’s lips as he coughed.

He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. Every inch of him was on fire. He could barely breathe past the anguish in his sides. But still the guard kept kicking. Until, suddenly, everything stopped.

“Enough.”

Ajay had barely registered the words. He wheezed and sputtered, trying desperately to get more oxygen to his lungs.

“But—” The guard cut off his retort, no doubt remembering what had happened to his comrade.

Yuma simply glanced at him. “Leave him. We need him alive.”

Grinding his teeth, the guard stormed off. The lieutenant reluctantly followed.

Kneeling down next to him, Yuma addressed Ajay, who found the strength to meet her malice-filled eyes. “I think we’ll try again in a few days when you’re a little more…open to suggestions.” She rose and strutted to the door, pausing just outside the cell. “Have a good night, Ajay,” she mocked. Then she left. Left Ajay, bound and broken, on the cold, hard floor. And hadn’t even bothered to close the door. 

* * *

Ajay was going to die. He was certain of it now. He had long since lost any feeling in his hands and feet, the icy mountain air taking its toll. He was so cold. So bitterly cold that he couldn’t even remember the warmth of the sun or the pleasure of a cozy hearth, the shivering a constant irritant to his wounds. Somehow he hadn’t yet bled to death. Probably because the wounds had frozen shut. At least, it had felt that way. Each rasping breath taken past his cracked lips was a stab to his chest, a fire in his lungs. With each passing minute, they grew shorter and shallower, drawing Ajay ever closer to death. He drifted in and out of consciousness, the bouts so frequent that he had lost all sense of time. It could have been hours. It could have been days. All Ajay prayed for was that he would die before Yuma returned.

But even that prayer went unanswered.

Footsteps and shouting bounded toward him. Followed shortly by—gunfire? And then an explosion. So violent it shook dust from the walls. Ajay roused himself as much as he could, his mind too muddled to consider what was happening, opting instead to simply wait and see what unfolded. Another one of Yuma’s elaborate lies, he told himself. In his fragile state, hope was too dangerous. So he retreated deep within, guarding his mind if nothing else.

_It’s not real. It’s not real._

The sounds magnified and a voice called out above the din. “Search everywhere! I want him found. Free the others.”

That voice. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him.

_It’s not real. It’s not real._

Squeaking hinges and cries of gratitude reached out to Ajay, teasing him, taunting him. Daring him to hope. All the while, that voice grew louder.

_It’s not real! It’s not real!_

It was right outside his door now, just outside his line of sight. “He has to be here somewhere!” Then he turned. “Keep look—” Their eyes locked. “Shit. Shit! He’s in here! I need help, now!!”

Sabal slid to his knees next to Ajay, reaching out with his hands, seemingly unsure of where to put them, how to help. One settled on Ajay’s shoulder.

Sabal’s blurry face came into focus as it neared. “It’s alright, Ajay. We’re getting you out of here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

“No…not…real.” The words were hardly a whisper.

A puzzled and pitying look crossed Sabal’s face, but he made no comment. Sabal instead produced a large knife from his belt and Ajay flinched as Sabal bent toward his feet and hands, expecting pain but finding only relief when his limbs were freed. Ajay attempted to push himself up, but couldn’t even summon the strength to move his arms. Sabal stripped off his coat, gingerly tucking Ajay’s arms into the sleeves. The warmth almost made Ajay cry, but his shivering worsened as the rest of his body felt colder by contrast.

Two men appeared at the cell door, harried and out of breath.

“Help me with him,” Sabal beckoned.

They hurried forward, shock at Ajay’s appearance evident on their faces. As they made to lift him, one remarked, “Sir, his hands…”

“I know,” Sabal replied sadly. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now we need to get him out of here. As quickly as possible.”

Ajay groaned and hissed as they moved him, as they stretched and maneuvered his broken body. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, blacking out intermittently. Partly because of the pain. Partly because his mind just couldn’t process what was happening. Ajay caught only flashes of the battle raging around him as they carried him from Durgesh.

The prison in shambles. Cell doors dangling from hinges. Rubble crumbling from the ceiling. Dead guards and rebels, riddled with bullets, lying, wide-eyed, all around.

Blinding, white light, burning through Ajay’s closed lids.

The pounding thud of helicopter blades.

Then Sabal’s face emerged again, hovering over Ajay, blocking the view of the metal roof of the fuselage. His words were distant and faded ever quieter. “Hold on, brother. Hold on.”

The world darkened.

_It’s not real. It’s…not…re…  
_

* * *

Ajay awoke to find himself lying on a plush mattress, buried in warm blankets. A catheter protruded from his arm and wound its way up to a half-empty bag hanging above his head. It took a moment for his full faculties to return, for him to realize just where he was. Then pain, both mental and physical, struck him a devastating blow.

_No. Not here. Not again._

He was in the upstairs bedroom of the Ghale Homestead. The shutters were thrown open, swaying gently in the warm breeze that brought with it the scent of the garden and the songs of morning birds. Ajay cast his gaze around the room. The dresser, the armoire, the tapestries, they were all there, all eerily identical to those in his drug-induced dream. And there was a man there, too busy fiddling with papers in the corner to notice that Ajay had awoken.

As Ajay roused further from his slumber, agony sliced into his body. His chest and ribs ached. His leg was worse. He could still feel the knife sliding into his flesh. A dull throbbing pulsed through Ajay’s face. And then there were his hands and feet. They were on fire. He held his hands up in front of his face. Cherry red skin, swollen and mottled, encased his fingers. He tried to move them and they barely budged. Even that tiny movement sent daggers shooting into his hands, setting Ajay screaming.

Blind panic tore through him. The pain, the room, it couldn’t be happening again. Ajay’s screaming drew the attention of the man across the room who rushed to Ajay’s side.

“Ajay! Ajay, take it easy! You’re going to hurt yourself!” The man made to hold Ajay down, but Ajay struggled violently. “I need help in here!” the man called down the ladder leading to the main floor. He turned back to Ajay. “Calm down, you’re safe now.”

Ajay did no such thing. He redoubled his efforts to break the man’s hold on him, the stitches in his leg ripping apart from the strain. Blood dribbled through the bandage, but Ajay didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let them win. He wouldn’t believe this lie, not for a second. Try as he might, Ajay could not break the man’s grip. He was so weak. So weak from everything that had happened to him over the last several days. Maybe that was why he couldn’t break Yuma’s spell. She had said she would try again when he was more open to suggestions. Maybe this is what she had meant. When he no longer had the strength to fight, she would be there. Frustrated and terrified, Ajay lashed out, bucking wildly on the bed just as a second man rushed around the corner, hurrying forward to help the first.

“Get off of me!” Ajay screamed. “What is this? What have you done to me?!”

“Sedate him, he’s going to kill himself!” the first man called to the second.

There was blood everywhere, now gushing from the wound in Ajay’s thigh, even seeping from the bandages across his chest. The second man ran to a cabinet, selecting a syringe and a small vial and quickly pulling up a minute amount of the clear liquid. He turned to Ajay, uncapping the needle and flicking the syringe to eliminate any bubbles.

“NO! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

But there was nothing Ajay could do. In his weakened state and with one man holding him down, Ajay’s struggles came to naught.

“Stop fighting, Ajay, we’re trying to help you!”

The needle plunged into his arm and Ajay’s thrashing lessened. His eyes started rolling and the man let go of his arms once Ajay could no longer lift them. The world drifted away. As Ajay’s vision blurred in and out of focus, the two men exchanged worried glances.

“Send word to Amita and Sabal immediately. They need to hear of this.”

The second man scurried away while the first turned back to Ajay. Sadness and fear mixed in his eyes. Just before he blacked out, Ajay heard the man mutter a simple question. A question that even Ajay didn’t have the answer to.

“What did they do to you?”

* * *

The next thing Ajay remembered was waking up in the same bed. The same room. The same nightmare. Somehow the pain had lessened. It was still there, still intense. But this time it was bearable. Ajay made to bring his hands in front of him only to find that they were strapped down, his ankles as well. He tugged at the restraints, but they held firm. Then a voice, _his_ voice, sounded next to Ajay.

“Welcome back, brother.” Sabal sat in a chair next to the bed. He looked tired.

Ajay steeled himself. He didn’t know what ploy Yuma was going to use next, but he wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to give them anything. He pulled at his bonds again, straining to break loose. When he made no progress, he shot an icy glare at Sabal. “You bastard, what have you done to me?” he fired at Sabal, growling in frustration.

Annoyance flared in Sabal’s answer. “You were nearly dead when we found you, Ajay. Your hands and feet severely frostbitten; nose, ribs, and toes broken; cuts all over your chest; a giant gash in your thigh. You _barely_ made it back here. I will not apologize for doing what was necessary to save your life. Or the lives of our doctors, a very precious commodity in the Golden Path. You seemed very intent on ending both of them.”

“Let me go.”

“I can’t do that, Ajay, not yet.”

Ajay’s response was curt, wary. “Then why are you here?”

“We thought it best that I be the one to be here when we woke you up.”

“What you do mean, _woke me up_?”

Sabal took a steadying breath, a man about to deliver some very bad news. “We’ve had to keep you heavily sedated and restrained, at least until your wounds could heal to the point where you wouldn’t keep injuring yourself.”

Ajay knew he didn’t want to know the answer, but he had to ask, “How long?”

“Almost two weeks now.”

Ajay’s heart dropped, mind reeling. Lies, it was all lies. He couldn’t have been out for that long. He would have known. Right? It couldn’t be real. Yuma was just trying to throw him off balance. But if that bit were true…was he really that weak? Was he never going to escape this nightmare?

Ajay tried to look inward, to listen deep within himself, searching for that _thing_ that always told him right from wrong, truth from lie, illusion from reality. But he couldn’t clear his mind enough to do it. His frantic thoughts kept turning back to Yuma, to how close she had been to getting what she wanted. To what she had done in order to get there.

If he didn’t know one way or the other, Ajay had to assume this was a dream. It was the only way to protect himself. Protect his friends. He stared at Sabal like he were a stranger, every movement rife with contempt and distrust. “What do you want with me?”

“I just want to talk to you. You might have information that could be useful to the Golden Path. Information you may not even know you have.”

“Liar! I know it’s you, Yuma. You might as well just kill me because you won’t get anything from me,” Ajay snapped.

“Ajay, it’s me, Sabal. You’re safe now. We need you.” Sabal leaned closer.

Ajay jerked away from Sabal as far as his restraints would allow him to. “Stay back! Stay away from me!”

It was the terror in Ajay’s voice that seemed to affect Sabal more than anything. Recoiling as if from a striking snake, Sabal drew back in his chair. He let out a heavy sigh. “Is there nothing I can do?”

“You can get out,” Ajay snarled. “You can stay the hell away from me.”

With somber resignation, Sabal rose, opening his mouth as if to speak. Then he seemed to think better of it and left without another word.

* * *

The next day, Sabal removed Ajay’s restraints. Whether it was some attempt to gain Ajay’s trust, Ajay didn’t know. He couldn’t have gone anywhere if he wanted to anyway, he realized. His hands and feet were still too damaged. Even if he somehow crawled his way down to the first floor, he couldn’t have opened the front door. He could hardly move his fingers. Perhaps Sabal knew it too, knew Ajay was no flight risk.

So Ajay played along. Let them think he was becoming complacent. He just had to wait for the right moment. They would make a mistake eventually.

And then he would strike. 

* * *

It had been a little over a week after Sabal’s first appearance and Ajay almost had full use of his hands and feet again. They had removed the last of the bandages around his chest, though a thin one still remained on his leg. His nose had healed for the most part, just a small crook in the bridge the only evidence that it had been broken.

Ajay had to keep reminding himself that it was all a lie, that he still needed to look for a chance to escape. The days were so peaceful that he wanted to believe the dream. He _wanted_ it to be real. But it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be real.

Sabal came by almost every day. The first few days, he continued trying to get Ajay to answer questions useful to the Golden Path. But after multiple bouts of Ajay dropping into complete hysterics or utter silence, Sabal dropped any attempt at getting information from Ajay. Instead they talked about innocuous topics, mostly about Ajay’s life before he came to Kyrat. Where he had lived in America, his hobbies, stories from his childhood. Ajay didn’t see any way that the information could be used against him so he opened up, let himself be friendly, even if only on the surface.

But every time Sabal left, Ajay looked inward, asking himself the same question over and over. _Is this real?_

He honestly didn’t know.

One day, while Sabal and Ajay were having their little chat, a man walked through the doorway to the bedroom, someone from the Golden Path. Apologetically, he strode up to Sabal, placing himself between them with his back to Ajay.

“I thought I told you I was not to be bothered,” Sabal said sternly, but not unkindly.

“I know, sir, but it’s urgent.”

“Out with it then.”

Ajay heard no more of the conversation. His eyes had drifted down to the man’s hip. To a loaded pistol holstered there. Less than a foot away. Without a second thought, Ajay snatched it from the holster out of pure instinct. This was the chance he had been waiting for.

He leveled the gun at Sabal, hands shaking.

The man whose gun Ajay had stolen whirled around in shock, reaching for the rifle strapped across his back. Ajay switched targets.

But Sabal held up a hand, stopping the man before he even touched his weapon. “No!” Sabal’s next words were calm and Ajay didn’t know if his tone was for the benefit of him or the other man. “It’s alright. Go back outside.”

“But, sir—”

Sabal tore his eyes from Ajay to deliver a firm, but quiet order. “Go.”

Slowly, the man backed away and Ajay tracked his movements through the house until he heard the front door open and close with a _click_. Then he turned his attention, his gun, back to Sabal.

Hands stretched towards Ajay in a placating gesture, Sabal said softly, “Ajay, you don’t want to do that.”

“Why the hell not? I’m done with your lies. I’m done with this nightmare.” Ajay shot back.

“Has it been so terrible? Have we not fed and housed and healed you? Have we done anything that was not in your best interest? Please, tell me, have I done anything to suggest we are not on the same side?”

He should just shoot him. He should just end it. Instead—

“None of this proves anything! How can I believe anything here? It’s all lies!”

Sabal swallowed. “Alright.” A short sigh. “Then shoot me.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

“What?” Ajay reacted incredulously. He had expected a lot of reactions, but not this.

“If you truly believe this is a lie. If you truly believe this isn’t real, then shoot me. Pull the trigger.”

Ajay tried. He tried desperately to do it, thrusting the gun forward repeatedly as though he could will the gun into firing itself. Ajay pulled his finger flush with the trigger, staring down the barrel into Sabal’s serene and pitying eyes.

Could he? Could he really pull the trigger? He had told himself it was all a lie, that it was Yuma’s doing. But now that it came down to it, he wasn’t so sure. Ajay gripped the gun tighter, lips quivering, hands trembling with indecision, tears leaking, unbidden, down his face.

What if it _was_ real? He was pointing a gun at an ally, a friend. _That_ wasn’t right, the voice deep inside told him, now that he was willing to listen. He’d been fighting no one but himself. He had let Yuma win, had let her shatter his mind. Had let her scatter the pieces to a thousand corners of his consciousness until even he forgot that they once belonged as a whole. Forgot that lies meant nothing without reality. That enemies meant nothing without allies. That both could, and must, coexist to make sense of the world. But, luckily for him, even shattered glass could be pieced back together. No matter how painstaking or slow.

Ajay shakily lowered the gun, his mind clearer than it had been in a long time.

With a soft gasp, Sabal let out the breath he had been holding, but made no move to take the gun from Ajay. Horrified sympathy filled his voice. “Ajay, what did they do to you in there?”

Now that he let himself believe it, believe that his friends were near, Ajay was overcome with relief. Relief that he was not alone anymore. He answered tentatively, mind venturing far away, unseeing eyes staring at the gun now lying in his lap.

“She…she drugged me. Made me see things. Amita, my mother. And I believed it, every time. After a while, I couldn’t tell what was real anymore. I couldn’t trust anything.”

Shaking his head, Sabal said guiltily, “I am so sorry, Ajay. It was my fault you were in that cave. I sent you in there. Alone. I promise you, we tried everything to break through to you, but by the time enough firepower had arrived for us to get to you, it was too late. And there was no way for us to confirm that it was Yuma that had taken you. She left no trace. All we found were your weapons and radio. When we finally figured out where you were…we came as fast as we could. And had we not come when we did…I fear you would not have made it.”

“I thought I was going to die, I _wanted_ to die. At least then Yuma couldn’t use me anymore.” Horror filled Ajay’s eyes. “And then…when I woke up here…it was the same as when Yuma had come to me as Amita.” Ajay’s breathing accelerated, his chest constricting. “I was in the same room. And I thought…I thought I was back there, stuck in one of her visions. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t escape the nightmare.”

Sabal’s voice cut through Ajay’s panic. “It’s alright, Ajay. You’re not there anymore. Durgesh is gone. We destroyed it when we rescued you. No one will ever be taken there again.”

Calming himself, Ajay took a few deep breaths, tamping down the panic that had sprung up. He nodded, his eyes flicking back and forth between his lap and Sabal’s face, too ashamed at his hysterics to hold Sabal’s gaze.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s a long story. And one that’s not particularly important right now. What is important is that you are here now. Yuma won’t venture this far south. She can’t touch you here.”

Ajay accepted Sabal’s assurances, not really wanting to question if they were actually true or just meant to console him. He was still too numb to think much about anything. But there was one thing he’d been wondering about. “And where has Amita been this whole time?”

Sabal huffed. “She hasn’t been here since your reaction to her several weeks ago.”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t even seen her.”

“You probably don’t remember. It was during the time that we had to keep you sedated. Amita and I came to see you, after the doctors had told us you’d awoken. Amita had gone up first and you just…lost it. You were raving incoherently. They had to knock you out entirely to get you to stop. After that, we both agreed it would be better if I were the only one to talk to you.”

“Yuma came to me as Amita the first time she drugged me,” Ajay explained. “And we were here, in this very room. Then, when I kept seeing through her lies, she decided to try to get me to talk the old fashioned way. They tied me to that chair and tortured me. She was trying to get information about the Golden Path. Our secret locations.”

A horrified look crossed Sabal’s face. “Ajay, what did you tell her?” It was a simple question. Not an accusation. Sabal just needed to know if their hideouts were compromised. Needed to protect his people.

Ajay shook his head. “Nothing. Something always stopped me. I don’t know how to explain it, but there was…a voice, a feeling that kept telling me something was wrong. That I needed to look closer because I was missing something.”

“And what does that voice say now?”

Pausing for a moment, Ajay searched inside himself, truly listening. He found only peace. A sense of rightness in this world, in this reality. Hope restored, Ajay raised his gaze to meet Sabal’s waiting eyes. “Nothing,” Ajay reported, recognizing, as he said it, that it was true. Then he added sorrowfully, “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Ajay. This is Yuma’s doing. She is the one to blame and no one else. And whether you believe me or not, brother, you are safe here.”

Ajay just nodded.

Sabal smiled in return. “Now,” he said, standing, “I should probably get outside before the captain calls in the cavalry.”

Before Sabal turned the corner, Ajay called out his name, stopping him. Sabal looked back questioningly. “Thank you,” Ajay offered sincerely.

It was Sabal’s turn to nod in response. “You mean more to this rebellion than you know, Ajay. I’m glad you’re back.”

* * *

The next few weeks were hard on Ajay. Guilt ate at him for having not trusted his friends, try as they might to assuage it. The doctors assured him that they harbored no ill will towards him, that they were just happy to have him back. Happy that he had finally found his way out of Yuma’s fog.

Then there was Amita. She waited a week to come visit Ajay on Sabal’s counsel. He thought it unwise to test Ajay’s newfound clarity so soon. Ajay had to admit that Sabal was probably right. Even after a week, he had to fight the tightening in his chest when Amita walked through the door. Had to take a deep breath before forcing a smile to his lips by way of greeting. A smile that gradually became genuine.

Physically, too, Ajay suffered. The first time he looked in a mirror, he was shocked by what he saw—a gaunt, wary face staring back at him, red-rimmed eyes dark and hollow. He didn’t even recognize himself. His face was sunken in, his muscles atrophied from lack of nutrition and use, his skin pale and drawn. There was no life there. No life left in him after what he had been through. There was only a frail, empty husk. He promptly set the mirror down.

Where it stayed for months.

He didn’t want to look at that person, didn’t want to think about that person and what he had been through. What he had become—a whipped dog whose solitary response to the world was to cower in the corner. Or strike before stricken. All Ajay could do was focus on the future. The past…the past was too much for him to handle at the moment. Yuma still haunted him almost every night. He would awake screaming, soaked in a cold sweat, fighting against the panic that had felt so real. The past was still very much alive in his dreams. He didn’t need to delve into it while he was awake as well. There would be time to sort through all of that later. Right now—he just needed a distraction. Something to meld his shattered mind back together while Yuma was, even now, striving to cleave it apart.

Ajay needed to act. Needed to _do_ something. But first, he needed to walk again. Ajay tried several times to walk on his own. Each time, he collapsed to the floor, his feet unable to support himself and his arms too weak to keep him from falling. It would take him nearly five minutes to crawl back into the bed where he would lay heaving, exhausted by his efforts. Once everyone started wondering where his new bruises were coming from, he gave in and told them, asking for their help. He wasn’t supposed to be walking yet according to his doctors, but, at his insistence, they agreed to help. They knew he would just keep doing it without them anyway and at least with someone there he wouldn’t hurt himself. His first few steps were feeble and clumsy, legs wobbling from disuse. Ajay gritted his teeth against the intense pain in his feet as they took his full weight for the first time since the doctors had carefully tended to them. Once Ajay was no longer in danger of injuring himself, he refused to take anyone’s help when they offered a steadying hand. Not out of rudeness or distrust, but because he felt that he needed to do it himself. Needed to know that he _could_ do it himself. He would never be weak again.

And so he built himself up. It started as little chores around the homestead—weeding the garden, cleaning the stables, feeding and watering the animals. When he had gathered more strength and coordination, Ajay took to running. The path to his family house was the perfect place to train. Up hills, across plains, through streams, and over boulders, Ajay ran further and faster every day, building up the muscle he had lost over the last month. The confidence as well.

Then Ajay dove into the rebellion with everything he had. He ran odd jobs for the Golden Path, liberating bell towers, delivering supplies; whatever his ever-growing strength would allow. Meanwhile, he spent every ounce of spare time training. Hand to hand combat had become his favorite pastime and his instructors, sensing his fervor, never held back. Ajay found himself thrown to the ground, bruised and sore, on many occasions. But he always got back up, always stepped back into the fight. Until the instructors themselves had to call it off.

His training ranged into other disciplines as well. Over weeks and months, Ajay familiarized himself with all manner of guns and knives and bows. Any weapon that he could get his hands on was fair game. He wanted to shore up every weakness. Maybe if he had known all this beforehand, he would never have been captured. Or at least would have had a chance at fighting his way out. And so, with lungs burning, arms drained and drooping, Ajay pushed and pushed and pushed until, exhausted, he collapsed into a mercifully dreamless sleep at the end of each day.

All the while telling himself, _I will never be weak again_.

* * *

It had been a little over four months since Ajay’s rescue from Durgesh. Ajay was in the middle of his morning routine of pushups and crunches on the worn rug in front of the incomplete thangka when Sabal burst through the front door, a triumphant, but anxious look written on his face. And Ajay knew, instantly, what this meeting would be about.

A little out of breath, Sabal delivered the news. “We have her, Ajay.”

Ajay jumped to his feet, disbelief shrouding his reply. “What?” He slid a t-shirt over his bare torso, now tanned and well-muscled, a far cry from what it had been mere months before. Thin, white scars crisscrossed his chest, stretching and contracting with each breath. A constant reminder of the stakes at hand.

“We have a chance to strike at Yuma, but we have to leave now. Grab what you need, I’ll fill you in on the way.”

Needing no more urging, Ajay prepared himself, slinging his favorite SMG over his back and strapping a custom-built pistol to his thigh, his newly sharpened kukri sheathed at his side. Within five minutes, he and Sabal were seated in a jeep, dust flying behind them as they made their way toward King’s Bridge.

Impatient to hear the details, Ajay broke the silence. “What’s going on, Sabal? I thought Yuma was holed up with Pagan at his compound.”

“She has been, but left for her fortress early this morning. I came to get you as soon as I heard the news.”

“What changed?”

“As you know, we’ve been attacking Pagan’s supply lines for a while now, either destroying the shipments or repurposing them for our own uses. Well I think it’s finally starting to make Pagan paranoid. He’s rerouted all shipments to his own compound, basically cutting off the rest of his holdings. Including Yuma’s fortress.

“Like you said, Yuma has spent the last few months at Pagan’s compound. Whether she’s been plotting or hiding, I don’t know. But either way, her control over her own forces grows thin. With the threat of dwindling supplies, rumors of desertion have sprung up and Yuma makes for her compound to rally the troops back to the cause. Most likely with both assurances and threats.”

“And that’s where we’ll strike,” Ajay mused.

“Exactly. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best chance we have. As of right now, we have no chance of taking Pagan’s compound. But with Yuma’s in such disarray, we could catch them while they’re disorganized and scared. If the soldiers are already considering desertion and we attack, they would have no reason to stand against us. The confusion would only give them a better chance at getting away. And if we can catch Yuma inside, then we can take her out of the picture entirely.

“I’ve already mobilized our forces. They’re to remain hidden in the hills by Yuma’s fortress until we arrive. Then we attack after dusk.” Sabal glanced over at Ajay. “I thought you might want to be involved. You, more than anyone, deserve to be the one to put a bullet in her head.”

Ajay didn’t have an answer to that. He’d wanted revenge at first, when he was struggling to walk, to do anything without pain flaring up in his battered body. He’d let the hatred and anger fuel him. Without it, he may not even have made it. Certainly not as far as he had. But along the way, that anger had fizzled. Now that it was imminent, the thought of confronting Yuma brought bile to Ajay’s throat. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he was afraid. Afraid that he still wasn’t strong enough, that she would ensnare him as easily as she had the first time.

But he needed this. More than revenge, more than overcoming his fear, he needed closure. He needed to know that Yuma couldn’t come back for him anymore. Beyond that, he needed to know she could never do to anyone else what she had done to him.

As the hours passed and they finally crossed over to the colder, harsher character of the North, determination stilled Ajay’s racing heart. He gazed toward the encroaching mountains with steel in his eyes, a fire in his core. One that cut through the crisp, mountain air that threatened to suffocate him.

History was not going to repeat itself, he wouldn’t let it. He would trust the Golden Path, trust Sabal. Trust himself.

He wouldn’t let Yuma win again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Yuma’s fortress was looming ever nearer as the mid-afternoon sun began to wane. Sabal and Ajay had spent the majority of the trip in silence, only the roaring of the wind keeping them company. But then Ajay gave voice to the question that had been bugging him for the past few miles.

“How do we know so much about Yuma’s movements?”

Sabal startled slightly at the break in silence, but answered readily. “Funnily enough, it’s for the same reason that we found you in Durgesh.”

“What does that mean?”

Sabal paused. “We found the man that betrayed us.”

“What?” The question was a shocked whisper.

“I’m sorry, Ajay. I should have told you. But after everything that happened, I didn’t want to open old wounds.”

Ajay was silent for a moment, not really knowing himself how he felt about the turn of events. He had wondered off and on about the man that had betrayed them, had led him into that trap. He just figured the man had fled, that they could never find him. And Ajay had never plucked up the courage to ask. But now, hearing this, he was glad they had found him. “So, what happened with him?”

“We were able to identify the traitor’s location a day or so after you were captured. And, believe me, he did not come quietly. But once we had him in custody, we questioned him…extensively. He eventually told us where they had taken you and how to break into Durgesh. After that, we gave him a choice. He could help the Golden Path and tell us everything he knows, or we would drop him off at Yuma’s compound and he could try to explain to her why her prison had been destroyed. When he realized he had turned traitor to Yuma, he was much more forthcoming. He gave us everything—details on Yuma’s routines, her whereabouts at the time. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to retaliate immediately. She was still too well-guarded. But once we found her, we had our spies keep track of her movements. Which leads us to what is happening now.”

“And what about the traitor? What happened to him?” Ajay probed uncertainly.

Sabal smirked. “We didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking. No, he will remain under lock and key for the foreseeable future. Besides, he may yet have information useful to us. Can you imagine Amita letting an asset like that go to waste? Traitor or not, he has been valuable. We would be fools to overlook that fact.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s being put to good use.”

A pleased smile spread across Sabal’s face. “It is a rare man that can look past revenge to see reason. You truly are stronger than you know, Ajay.”

Ajay’s heart skipped at the praise, as though Sabal had chosen those words knowing exactly what doubts had plagued Ajay for the past few months. Then Sabal continued, unaware of the effect he had had on Ajay.

“But enough of this. We will reach the meeting place shortly. If all goes according to plan, tonight, you will get your revenge after all.”

* * *

They had waited until dark to move into position, the snipers on the cliffs above, the two main forces situated in the trees surrounding the fortress, and a small infiltration unit, led by Sabal and Ajay, already making their way through a secret tunnel that would lead them to the heart of the compound. The location of the entrance yet another gift from the traitor.

They would strike as one. The snipers would take out any enemy snipers on the rooftops and then provide supportive fire as the main forces pushed forward. Those in the trees to the East would put on a show of attacking, diverting the enemy’s attention until the infiltration unit could get a foothold within and open the gates on the northern wall, where the larger of the two main forces would be waiting. From there, it would be an all-out battle. And while the conflict raged on the surface, Sabal and Ajay’s small band had a secondary objective. Their informant had told them of secret caves beneath the fortress, only accessible from within it, though he was sure Yuma alone knew a way out of the caves. Yuma was sure to be hiding there and they were going to find her before she could get away. They had one chance at this. They couldn’t afford to let her slip through their net.

The small unit Ajay traveled with finally made their way into position at the bottom of a flight of wooden stairs. The door at the top would lead them right into the compound if their information held true. They had met little opposition along the way. Only a handful of guards patrolled the tunnel, secure as Yuma was in its confidentiality. They were quickly taken out with silenced weapons. Now, they just had to wait for the right time. Everyone was to attack simultaneously on the hour.

Only a few minutes to go.

Sabal turned to Ajay, keeping his voice low. “Are you ready for this, brother?”

A hard glint crept into Ajay’s eyes. He didn’t know what would happen in the next few minutes. Didn’t know if he was strong enough to face Yuma. But he wasn’t about to back away from this fight. Even if it meant the end of him. So he set his face with determination. “Absolutely.”

And then all hell broke loose.

Quickly and silently, they pushed into the fortress just as shots rang out from above. There was panicked shouting, the call of, “Snipers!” before more shots were sent on their way, closer this time—return fire. Ajay didn’t have much time to contemplate the battle above as Sabal was motioning to the open window to their left.

Once they snuck outside, Ajay could finally take bearings on where they had come out. They were along the northern wall, slightly west of the gate. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Only about two hundred yards separated them from their goal. But there were still guards everywhere, distracted as they were. They would have to be careful. If the alarm went up before they made it to the gate, there was no way they would stand a chance.

Only five men, including Sabal and Ajay, manned the infiltration team. Two of them were the Golden Path’s greatest sharp shooters with a bow, an essential skill for stealth. Both of them were similarly built, relatively short and thin, covered in lean muscle. The final member was the strongest of them all. He was taller than Ajay by a head and twice as wide. His frame wasn’t ideal for stealth, but no one knew how much force it would take to open the gate, so they had brought the man just in case.

All five now slunk along the northern wall, staying as close to the buildings as possible, ducking from shadow to shadow. A guard appeared on a rooftop above, eyes bulging as he spotted them. A hissed warning from Sabal and an arrow buried itself into the man’s chest. Luckily for them, most eyes were turned to the East. They passed guard upon guard who paid no mind to the soft footsteps behind their backs.

With fifty yards to go, only a handful of guards had troubled them along the way. They were so close. Ajay wanted nothing more than to sprint for the gate, but held himself in check. It would make too much noise and stealth was their only ally. But as they neared the gate, the patrols grew thicker. How they hadn’t been discovered yet, Ajay didn’t know. A mixture of luck and lightning reflexes, he guessed.

Forty yards now. Thirty.

Now they faced their greatest hurdle. An open courtyard, almost fifty yards square stood between them and the gate. There would be no more hiding. They paused in unison at the edge. With a short nod from Sabal, the group moved forward as one, the two archers constantly scanning rooftops and alleys, sending arrow after arrow to silence the alarm.

It wasn’t enough.

Just as they reached the gate, a shout from the North, almost directly above them. They hadn’t seen the sentry on the wall. How could they have been so stupid? A half second later, the man fell, shot down with Sabal’s own pistol. But the damage was done. A chorus of shouts rose above the compound, heads turning all around. Their fifth man set about opening the gates, pulling at the chain mechanism that would raise the steel bar holding them closed. The rusty chains were moving too slowly. They would never make it.

Ajay soon came to realize exactly why they had never taken Yuma’s fortress before. Never even attempted it. Hundreds of men were bearing down on them. Ajay had questioned Sabal earlier in the day, wondering if the size of the assault force was truly necessary. Now he wondered if it would be enough. If this was Yuma’s stronghold at its weakest, he didn’t want to imagine how it had been at its peak. Let alone Pagan’s. But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to concentrate or they would all die.

Ajay and Sabal were laying down covering fire, the bowmen switching to their secondary assault rifles and joining in. It just wasn’t enough. They were too exposed in the middle of the courtyard.

Sabal seemed to realize it as well. “Fall back! Back to the buildings!” No one questioned his order. They ran for cover, the fifth man lagging behind. He was strong, but inherently slower than the rest of them. And he had been the most exposed without a weapon drawn. He went down just as the others reached the edge of the courtyard. There was nothing they could do for him.

They all dove into a building, the full force of the compound closing in.

Each stood at an opening, be it a window or a doorway, and held off the enclosing forces.

One of the archers, panting from exertion and anxiety, yelled across the room, “What do we do now?”

Turning to Sabal, Ajay, for the first time since he had known him, saw Sabal look back at them with fear in his eyes. Fear and apology for what was surely their imminent doom. Then his eyes flicked past Ajay, lighting up, hope returning. He ran toward the back wall of the small room.

“What are you doing?” Ajay called.

Sabal reached down into one of the high-end military crates along the wall. “Improvising,” he said as he turned to reveal an RPG. It seemed like some sort of advanced weaponry, Ajay noted, familiar yet superior at the same time. It had to have cost a fortune. Wasting no time in putting it to use, Sabal hurried to the open doorway leading to the courtyard, the others still fending off invading troops from the alternate entrances. A _whoosh_ came from Sabal’s direction. A moment later, a deafening blast. The impact sent everyone reeling, the very ground rumbling beneath their feet. Smoke and splinters streaked through the courtyard, a mass of soldiers were mowed down in the explosion. The gate doors were completely obliterated with one hit.

Ajay’s ears were ringing and a stream of blood trickled from his nose. He shook his head to clear his senses. Then all sound flooded back in. War cries were swelling to a climax until the Golden Path’s forces came barreling through the devastated gates, pushing the enemy forces back. Yuma’s men were on their heels for now. It was the perfect time to move. Forgotten among the larger army now invading, what was left of the infiltration unit regrouped within their building.

“Now’s the time to move, Sabal. Yuma’s sure to be on her way out of the fortress by now.”

Sabal accepted the hand Ajay proffered to pull him up. He was talking in a louder volume than was necessary, blood dribbling from his right ear. “Agreed. My men can handle it from here. Let’s get down to those caves.” He looked at the two archers in turn, each giving a nod of assent.

With the help of the invading force, Ajay and the others wended their way to the entrance of the secret caves, in a large building along the southwestern wall of the complex. The door was hidden behind a tapestry of Pagan Min surrounded by golden light.

They crossed the threshold into a long tunnel, the air growing colder and more humid with each step. The group hesitated in collective dread as they reached the end of the tunnel. It let out into a vast system of caverns, at least six branches stretching out from the center, torches dimly lighting every path. Ajay stared, unbelieving, at the sight. He hadn’t expected this. Yuma could be anywhere. How would they ever find her in time?

“We’ll split up,” Sabal said softly, trying to keep his voice from echoing in the large space. “Meet back here in an hour. If we haven’t found her by then, she’s already long gone.”

Heart pounding so loud he was amazed the sound wasn’t echoing off the walls, Ajay strode to one of the openings. The others chose their own caverns as well and disappeared from sight. Ajay was on his own now. All of his training, all of his preparation, it was for this moment. He wasn’t the same man that had been captured and sent to Durgesh. He would never be that man again. He would never let himself be that man again. A man that was naïve and ill-equipped. Kyrat had changed him, Yuma had seen to that.

And Ajay wanted to look into her eyes when she regretted it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The system of caves was massive and ever changing. Ajay would have to crawl through one section only to end up in an enormous cavern nearly fifty feet high, the black rock worn smooth by centuries of erosion. Only part of it seemed natural though. The other half looked as though it had been hewn from the stone to better suit the needs of its adoptive inhabitants. Spare crates full of who knew what were lined along the walls. Probably reserves in case the fortress were under siege. All the while, muffled remnants of the skirmish above echoed through the caves.

After fifteen minutes of aimless wandering, Ajay was starting to get nervous and twitchy, seeing shadows and ghosts around every turn. He was hopelessly lost. Then a pained shriek reverberated down the tunnel. It sounded so close, it made Ajay jump, but it was just a trick of the walls. Ajay sought out the source. Whether it was friend or foe that had made the noise, someone was engaged in some kind of battle. The continuing yells confirmed the theory.

It took longer than Ajay would have liked to follow the sounds. As soon as he thought he was getting close, another shout would reach him coming from the opposite direction. Ajay was running now, hoping that he could reach whoever it was in time.

Finally, he turned a corner and saw one of Yuma’s guards kicking a man on the ground, who was doing his best to protect himself. Ajay fired. Belatedly, he realized that the armor the guard wore was too thick for normal rounds to pierce. He would have to shoot him with a shotgun at close range to even make a dent. The guard swiveled on the spot, seeking out the new attacker and Ajay was forced to duck behind a boulder just as return shots came whizzing past where his head had been.

Then there was a strange gurgling noise. The bullets had stopped flying and, in the utter silence, Ajay peeked around the boulder. The man, who Ajay now realized was one of the archers, had stabbed his knife sideways into the guard’s neck. In seconds, his struggles ceased and his pupils dilated, one last breath bubbling from his blood-filled mouth. The archer fell to his knees beside the body.

Rushing forward, Ajay helped the man to his feet. “Are you alright?”

The man grimaced and sagged against the wall, clutching his right arm. “My arm’s broken. He came at me out of nowhere. Once he had me on the ground, he just wouldn’t stop kicking. He could have shot me easily, but he wouldn’t let up.”

Ajay glanced back at the bloodied corpse and came to find that he recognized the face. It was the guard that had tortured him in Durgesh. It seemed that he had a penchant for cruelty.

“Well, you’re still alive. That’s all that matters.” Ajay rigged a makeshift sling for the man out of his jacket. As Ajay was tying the knot behind the man’s head, a slew of gunshots boomed through the cave. Both heads whipped toward the sound. “Shit,” Ajay swore, then turned back to the man. “Can you walk?”

A sharp nod.

“Then head back to the entrance, wait for us there.” Ajay made to leave, but was stopped short.

“Wait! I can still fight. I’m coming with you.”

Ajay knew the man was in no shape to fight. No matter how good he was, with his arm broken, he would be more of a liability than anything. And he probably knew it too. Knew it, but his pride wouldn’t let him walk away. So Ajay offered him a solution. One that would save his pride and, most likely, his life as well. “You will be fighting. Go back to the entrance and hold off any troops that come this way. We don’t need them sneaking up behind us.” Ajay raised his eyebrows pointedly, nodding.

The man recognized the offering for what it was and didn’t fight it. He sighed. “Alright.” He motioned with his head toward the sound of gunfire. “Go. And good luck.”

Ajay took off down a tunnel to his right. It was harder to locate the sound this time. It was so much louder, it just kept bouncing from wall to wall. And then it stopped entirely.

No longer guided by the sound, Ajay zigzagged in what he thought was its general direction. And he didn’t know if the lack of gunfire boded well or not. Maybe Sabal or the other archer had killed someone and moved on. Maybe they had killed Yuma. Or the opposite. Ajay didn’t want to think about that, so he just kept moving, gun at the ready.

He came to an opening that led to a large cavern with what looked like a vast sinkhole at its center. From his angle, Ajay couldn’t tell how deep it went. He took a step out into the open.

An LMG came swinging from around the corner, smashing into Ajay’s SMG and crushing it against the wall. The gun narrowly missed Ajay himself. He would have been killed or at least incapacitated by the force of it. Acting on instinct, Ajay ducked and rolled underneath another swipe, springing up into a sprint for the nearest cover and diving behind it. The LMG whirred and fired. Shards of rock rained down on Ajay from the boulder he was currently hiding behind. He had to move.

Now that he was closer, Ajay could see that there was a lower level encircling the drop-off, maybe three feet below where he was now. Crouching down, Ajay crawled to the edge and dropped himself to the lower level, taking care not to make any noise. He peered down into the depths of the sinkhole. Only blackness stared back. It had to have been at least a hundred foot drop. Ajay clenched his jaw, swallowing. He sidled along the edge, listening for the guard’s position and, when he deemed it safe enough, Ajay climbed back up and hid behind a line of crates.

He had maneuvered himself behind the guard. Not a guard—the lieutenant. The one that had argued with Yuma. Now fully decked out in body armor save for a helmet. When the lieutenant turned his head, Ajay knew why. A large gash stretched over one eye, courtesy of whoever he had been fighting, Ajay surmised. Ajay had limited options. His pistol would do nothing against the armor and even if he could get to it, his SMG was damaged beyond repair. A headshot would end it, but it was too risky. If he missed, he would give himself away and he barely escaped death the first time. The kukri then. Ajay would have to get in close. At least at that range he could work around the LMG.

Ajay settled into a crouch, kukri drawn and ready. Swiftly and stealthily, Ajay padded his way toward the lieutenant. The gap between them grew ever smaller until Ajay was right behind him, only feet away. Either some miniscule noise or just some sixth sense on the part of the lieutenant betrayed Ajay at the last possible moment, the lieutenant swiveling and bringing up his hand to catch the arm already slicing toward him. The lieutenant’s hand strangled Ajay’s wrist, twisting it until Ajay could no longer hold onto the kukri and dropped it with a yelp of pain. Now caught in the man’s iron grip, Ajay was in trouble. The lieutenant swung his gun around, trying to get Ajay in its path, but Ajay was prepared for the move. He grabbed onto the side of the LMG, making sure to keep himself as close to it as possible. Snarling, the lieutenant tried to shake Ajay off of the gun.

Ajay held firm.

But eventually, the man’s strength was too much for Ajay to handle. He tossed Ajay aside, flinging him onto the lower level toward the open pit. With a death grip still on the LMG, Ajay ripped it out of the lieutenant’s hands and it went flying with him, tumbling past Ajay and into the abyss. It was several seconds before Ajay heard it hit bottom. Ajay himself careened to a stop just in time, rocks skittering into the sinkhole as his hands frantically sought purchase on the smooth rock.

Throwing himself backwards, Ajay rolled onto his back, drawing his pistol at the same time. The lieutenant was already bearing down on him, having drawn a dagger himself after losing his weapon of choice. Ajay would only get one shot before he was on him. He squeezed the trigger.

And missed, barely, adrenaline getting the better of him.

The bullet grazed the lieutenant’s left ear, enraging him further. Ajay fired again, but it just hit the armor, not even slowing the man down. Trying desperately to get away, Ajay scrambled for the upper level. At least there the lieutenant couldn’t easily throw him into the pit. Just as his foot touched the higher ring, the lieutenant wrapped his arms around him from behind. Ajay’s pistol went flying in the exchange. Then the dagger came plunging toward Ajay’s heart. With reflexes born of months of training, Ajay grabbed the hand holding the dagger, pushing away from himself with everything he had, his left hand grabbing his right wrist to aid in the struggle.

They were locked together for what felt like an eternity, the dagger gradually inching ever closer to Ajay’s chest. Spit flew from Ajay’s mouth where clenched teeth were growling with the effort of survival. Ajay could almost feel the smile forming on the lieutenant’s face. It was almost like he was toying with Ajay.

Ajay wasn’t going to let it end this way. Wasn’t going to give the bastard the satisfaction. No matter what.

With a monumental effort, he shoved the dagger left.

And let it fall.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Ajay knew he couldn’t win out against the lieutenant’s strength. He was more fit than he had ever been in his life, but was still no match for the mass of muscle that now had him in his clutches. Ajay did the only thing he could think of. He would concede the battle to, hopefully, win the war.

The dagger plunged into Ajay’s left shoulder, tearing a cry from his mouth. But he was free. The lieutenant was caught off guard by Ajay’s tactic and, in his hesitation, Ajay kicked out behind him. His foot connected with the lieutenant’s knee and, as the brute staggered, Ajay launched himself forward, barely catching himself on his hands and knees before crashing and sliding awkwardly into the cavern wall. Ajay gritted his teeth against the lancing pain in his shoulder, still aware that he had mere seconds to come up with a plan. Then his hand hit something wet.

Blood.

Blood from the second archer, lying dead against the wall, eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. And lying right next to him—his bow, with one arrow still tucked into the quiver on his back.

The thought hadn’t even fully formed in Ajay’s mind before he had grabbed both and rotated, coming up on one knee. He ignored the pain in his shoulder, conquered it. Even though he could feel the dagger ripping through muscle and tissue alike.

The archer was dead. Ajay hadn’t made it in time to save him. All he could do now to honor his memory was to kill the lieutenant with the archer’s own weapon.

Nock. Draw. Breathe. Fire.

Ajay had practiced it countless times and he took himself back there. Back to the range with dented metal targets opposing him. This was just a shot like any other.

This was his last chance.

He wasn’t going to waste it.

Time slowed as shock and terror transformed the lieutenant’s face. The bowstring snapped forward, the arrow hurtled toward the frozen lieutenant.

And embedded itself into his left eye, killing him instantly. His body sagged to its knees before falling backward and tumbling through empty air into the chasm. Ajay sagged to the floor, immense pain returning to his shoulder. He groaned as he dropped the bow, his hand unable to hold onto it any longer. With a shriek, Ajay wrenched the dagger from his shoulder and tossed it aside, blood gleaming off of the razor-sharp blade. He tore a strip of cloth from his shirt to wrap around the wound and stanch the bleeding. He then staggered over to his pistol, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side.

Armed once more, Ajay took a steadying breath. He had to keep going, had to keep pushing forward. He had a mission. Yuma was still out there, lurking in the shadows. So he trudged past the bottomless pit, seeking out the one person that had brought him more agony and hardship than any other.

After five minutes, Ajay’s vision started blurring around the edges. The blood loss was starting to get to him. He shook his head and blinked heavily, trying to clear his eyes. Then a faint scuffling noise hit him. Pausing, Ajay listened intently to the sound. It was coming from dead ahead. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good. Not gunfire or shouting, but definitely some kind of fighting. And that could only mean one thing—Sabal had found Yuma. Or the other way around. 

Ajay moved swiftly but conscientiously toward the sound. He wasn’t going to walk into another ambush. As the fighting grew louder, the passage widened. More and more flickering candles stood in alcoves carved into the wall, their light bathing the passage in an orange glow. Spiraling ever downward, soon carved stone steps appeared underneath Ajay’s feet. Statues of Yalung sprung up on either side of the path, recurring every so many yards. The hair on the back of Ajay’s neck stood on end, but still he pressed forward. Until the passage opened up and Ajay gaped at the sight.

The cavern was enormous. It had to have been hundreds of feet high. Situated right in the middle was a massive statue of Yalung. Candles and braziers stretched along the walls, eerily lighting up the statue from beneath. It was a shrine. A sacred place to worship the demon of chaos. And at its feet, standing in a lowered section of the floor, were Sabal and Yuma, locked in combat.

Toe to toe they struggled, each vying for the upper hand, somehow neither one armed. They hadn’t even noticed Ajay arrive. Ajay moved in, pistol held out in front of him, trying to get an angle on Yuma. He had to shake his head again as a wave of dizziness hit him. The flickering light danced in his vision, distorting his perception. Was Yalung watching him? He could have sworn it had moved. No. It was just a trick of the light.

Sabal and Yuma swung around each other, constantly moving, two apex predators fighting to the death. Ajay couldn’t get a clear shot. He was just as likely to hit Sabal as he was Yuma. So he lowered his gun and charged instead, leaping off of the edge of the depression.

He leaned his good shoulder into the hit and tackled Yuma who pulled Sabal along with them. All three went sprawling. Ajay rolled, springing to his feet and swinging his right arm around to aim the gun at Yuma.

But she was too quick for him. Yuma was already up, already moving. She made a quick spin and kicked Ajay’s arm, the force sending him staggering and his gun flying behind him. Before she could follow up, Sabal made his own move from behind her. He threw a blistering punch towards her, but she brought up her hands to swipe his arm to the side, ducking to the left at the same time.

Ajay realized then just how little he knew. He had been training nonstop, sure. But for mere months. Months compared to her and Sabal’s years and years of experience. They traded blow for blow, neither one landing a significant hit. Then Yuma managed to break from Sabal and came again at Ajay, aiming another kick to knock him down. Until Ajay’s hands leapt into action and caught her foot, stopping her dead.

He may not have known as much as her, but he wasn’t defenseless. Not anymore.

An enraged snarl slew the shock that had betrayed her face. She used his grip as a launching point and brought her other foot around, swiping at his head. He flung himself backwards to avoid the kick, dropping Yuma in the process. She landed nimbly just as Sabal came at her.

Together they tag-teamed against her. Ajay didn’t have time to breathe. Didn’t have time to think. He just reacted, muscle memory taking over when his brain was too slow. Everything was a blur. And not just from the speed of the fight. The extra exertion Ajay was having to put into the scuffle sent blood dribbling from his shoulder. He fought against the bleariness in his head. Unfortunately, two on one were still good odds for Yuma’s level of skill. But they were making headway against her. Barely.

At one point, Ajay came at Yuma, sidestepping a quick jab and ramming his elbow into her torso. When she doubled over in reaction, Ajay jammed upward with his palm straight into Yuma’s nose. But she had recovered quickly and swiveled to sweep Ajay’s feet out from under him. He had had to roll away to avoid her pouncing on him and then Sabal had stepped back into the ring.

After several minutes, they were all beaten and bloodied, Yuma especially. Blood trickled from her nose. Her clothes were torn and frayed, her hair pulled scruffily from its usually precise bun. The trio pulled apart for a moment, Ajay and Sabal side by side, Yuma across from them, all three panting heavily.

“Give up, Yuma,” Sabal puffed. “It’s over. You can’t win against us.”

For the briefest moment, Ajay thought she was going to surrender. Then something shifted in her countenance. An inferno erupted behind her eyes. She launched herself at Sabal with a frenzied screech. Like she had unleashed some feral part of herself that didn’t like being backed into a corner. Sabal was caught off guard at her sudden attack and she hurtled him to the ground, knocking the wind from him.

Then the savage beast rounded on him.

As she tore toward him, Ajay tried to prepare some sort of defense. But she struck with such speed and ferocity that there was little he could do. She flung her whole body at him, knocking him onto his back and landing with her feet on his chest, pinning him to the ground. Then one of her feet found its way to his throat, stamping down hard to cut off his air.

Ajay gasped and struggled. He had very little leverage from that position with his left arm weakened as it was. Yuma was glowing with triumph above him, fangs peeking from between her lips. Ajay’s vision dimmed and clouded. Beyond Yuma, Yalung seemed to be smiling, enjoying Ajay’s anguish along with Yuma. It only spurred Ajay on to find his own ferocious beast within himself. One he had honed ever since escaping Durgesh. One that would claw and bite and clash until the last breath.

Summoning what remained of his strength, Ajay gripped Yuma’s leg with both hands and twisted sharply. She lost her footing atop him and was borne to the ground, her head crunching into the stone floor. Ajay greedily sucked in a glorious breath. Then another as Yuma squirmed dully on the ground. She had been dazed by the hit. However, Ajay was too busy trying to get oxygen back into his body to realize she was coming out of it quicker than he was. She kicked back at him, sending him skidding a few feet away.

He rolled over onto his hands and knees, preparing to stand, when he saw it—his pistol, glistening in the firelight an arm’s length away. In half a second he snatched it up and wheeled around, hearing scuffles and grunts behind him. He found Sabal pinning Yuma on her knees. He had her in a headlock behind her back, his teeth gritted with the effort of holding her there. Then he turned to Ajay.

“Quickly! Shoot her!”

Ajay couldn’t ignore the tingling creeping up his spine. The surrounding flames cast frolicking shadows over Yalung’s face, the statue shimmering in their heat. Was Yalung humming, calling to him? Ajay tried his best to disregard it as he raised his gun.

Yuma struggled furiously against Sabal, nails tearing through his arms. Ajay pointed the gun at her head, finger on the trigger.

“What are you waiting for?! Kill her!” Sabal cried as he desperately fought to keep hold of Yuma.

Ajay met Sabal’s eyes and then followed their gaze to Yuma where he looked deep into hers. Her mouth moved, but made no sound due to Sabal securing her in a half-stranglehold.

This was it. Everything that had happened, everything he had been through had all led him to this moment.

He just had to squeeze the trigger.

Ajay could feel the adrenaline that had kept him going during the fight wearing off. The scene blurred in and out of focus. Ajay blinked several times, swaying a bit on his feet. Yalung was definitely staring at him now, laughing.

Yuma was breaking free. Sabal was barely holding on to her as she writhed in his grasp.

“AJAY!!” A panicked warning from Sabal. The window was closing before Yuma would set upon them once more. Then there would be no telling what could happen.

Sabal was right. This had to end now. Before it got any worse.

Ajay raised his gun.

And shot Sabal square between the eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The echoing bang dissipated as the body fell. But it wasn’t Sabal’s face that stared with glazed eyes up at Yalung, blood pooling beneath it.

It was Yuma’s.

And resting on his knees, bound and gagged beside her, was Sabal, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

It had all started after the fight with the lieutenant. The fuzziness Ajay had, at first, attributed to the blood lost from his shoulder. But there was something more to it, something strange. And that feeling of uneasiness had lingered within him at each turn.

A whisper crept into his mind as he had spiraled downward, barely enough to draw his attention. It wasn’t much, just a ghost of a thought. Like the feeling that something had escaped his mind. Ajay had tried to listen, but he had had a hard time focusing. The blood loss had still clouded his mind, even if there had been something else adding to it. And then the fight had stolen his attention.

As the fight progressed, that voice had battled with him to override his own eyes. Then the tide had shifted. They had gained the upper hand. It was over. They had won. He just had to pull the trigger. He could end it once and for all.

But when he had pointed the gun at Yuma, the voice had taken hold of him entirely, paralyzed his arm, screamed in his ear to look deeper.

So he had.

Within the span of a heartbeat, Ajay had gauged the pair in front of him, studied them, truly searched their beings. In Sabal’s eyes had been triumph and pleasure. It was nothing peculiar. He had just conquered one of his greatest enemies. The look had been a bit bloodthirsty for Sabal’s style, sure. But not enough to warrant question.

It had been Yuma’s eyes, though, that had given Ajay pause. There hadn’t been fear or anger or disgust. But sadness, understanding, pity. Even a hint of betrayal and regret. The eyes that had shone back at him were those of a friend, not an enemy. It hadn’t made any sense. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

That voice had piped up within him then, capitalizing on his indecision. _It’s all lies! Don’t trust anything!_

Ajay listened. But instead of letting the thought consume and destroy him, he had catalogued it, scrutinized it. Let it guide his actions rather than shut him down. He had trusted the only thing he could in that moment—himself. So he had aimed.

And pulled the trigger.

* * *

Ajay fell to his knees, gasping with relief. The pistol slid from his numb hand and clattered to the floor. Whatever his instincts had told him, his eyes had still shown him killing a friend, a brother.

And now that brother sat before him unharmed.

Hauling himself to his feet, Ajay moved to Sabal and freed him, collapsing once more beside him.

Sabal pulled the gag from his mouth, seemingly at a loss for words. “How…How did you know?”

“Wait. You…you could see all that?”

“Yes. Yuma found me shortly after we split up. She and her two guards took me captive. They were too much for me between the three of them. Once they had me bound, they brought me here and drugged me. Then Yuma sent her men out into the caves. Yuma remained here with me, to wait for you.”

“Me?”

Sabal nodded gravely. “Yes. Somehow Yuma knew you would find us. When you finally showed up, it was like there were ghosts of me and Yuma in the room. They were fighting with you. I could see everything like some sort of TV show happening right in front of me. Then the phantoms disappeared as the real Yuma grabbed me around the neck and called to you, telling you to kill me. Only she was wearing my face and I hers.

“There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t cry out, couldn’t warn you. I could only look you in the eyes as you sighted me down.” Sabal shook his head solemnly. “She didn’t just want us dead, Ajay. She wanted to destroy us, destroy the Golden Path. And what better way to sow dissent than to have the son of Mohan Ghale kill one of its leaders in cold blood. I guess she wanted me to see what happened. Wanted me to know why you had failed. She knew that it would destroy you too, that you would never forgive yourself.”

Yuma was right, Ajay never would have been able to live with the fact that he had killed Sabal. It would have eaten him alive, whether it was on purpose or not. Then the Golden Path would have fallen apart at Sabal’s death at the hands of its founder’s son. Even if Amita could rally them all back to the cause, Pagan was too shrewd a dictator. He would have crushed them as soon as he smelled their weakness. By the time they could gather their forces, it would have been too late.

All of the implications of what Ajay had done, or not done, hit him at once. It was hard for him to grasp.

Sabal cut into Ajay’s musings. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Ajay perked up and tilted his head slightly, questioning.

“How did you know? That I wasn’t Yuma.”

“It was just like when I was in Durgesh. There was this feeling that something wasn’t right. And I listened to it. From there…I don’t know. I just acted on instinct.”

“But how could you be sure? By all rights, you killed me and spared Yuma.” Sabal’s tone was admiring rather than accusatory.

Ajay was silent for a moment. Then he raised his gaze to meet Sabal’s. “It was the eyes.”

“The eyes?”

“Your eyes, they didn’t match what was happening. I looked into your eyes and saw something…familiar, caring. Something I had never seen in Yuma’s eyes. Something that could never be in her eyes. That’s what stopped me. That’s what gave me the resolve to shoot the _other_ you.”

Sabal sat in pensive silence, seemingly mulling over Ajay’s account. “But there’s still one thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?”

“How did Yuma drug you in the first place? She’d been with me the whole time.”

At first, Ajay didn’t have an answer. But then everything suddenly made sense. Like the final piece of the puzzle revealing the completed image. The dagger. It had been laced with Yuma’s drug. It had to have been. Yuma had sent her guards to drug Ajay, make sure he made it to the shrine. And kill the others. The lieutenant probably hadn’t been able to see that well with his marred face. He’d probably thought Ajay was the second archer to begin with. Once he had realized who Ajay was, he had drawn that dagger. And after that was when everything had started to go downhill.

Delving into the story of what had occurred after they split up, Ajay talked until a fainting spell hit him mid-sentence. His head sagged and the next thing he knew, Sabal was leaning over him, shaking him.

“Ajay!”

Ajay snapped to attention, confusion flashing across his face.

“Ajay, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just…” Ajay blinked. “I…I’m fine.”

Sabal helped Ajay stand, throwing Ajay’s good arm over his shoulders to support him. “Your shoulder is worse than I thought. And I’ve kept you talking longer than I should have. There will be time for this later, once you’ve recovered.” Sabal motioned to their surroundings, the statue of Yalung. “Let’s get out of this place.”

They slowly wound their way back to the cave entrance, meeting the archer who had stationed himself there. Together the three of them, beaten and weary, trudged back to the compound.

A chorus of cheering and celebratory gunfire greeted them as they neared the hidden door. Then grew ever louder as they emerged from the building. The trio paused just outside the door as rebels all around were charging over to them, all gathering in the small courtyard. Past the surrounding crowd, Ajay could see captured militia being led away and rebels taking stock of munitions and vehicles now at their disposal. Sabal held up a hand and the congregation quietened. His booming voice echoed through the complex.

“Today, we have won a great victory for the Golden Path. It is with great pride that I tell you—Yuma is dead!” A roaring of cheers and applause and gunfire blasted through the night air. The archer next to Ajay closed his eyes and extended his gratitude to Kyra in a hushed prayer. Once the din had abated, Sabal continued. “Our very own Ajay Ghale, son of Mohan, struck the fatal blow. And now that Yuma is gone, we look to the North, to Pagan Min. Let him keep a wary eye on the horizon knowing that we march for him next. His regime is at its end, brothers and sisters. It is only a matter of time now before a bullet finds its way between his eyes and Kyrat will be free at last!”

Acclamation, the likes of which Ajay had never heard, rose above Yuma’s conquered fortress. Ajay smiled despite himself. Despite the pain and the lightheadedness threatening to take him over. He was going to enjoy this moment, savor it. For however long it lasted. They had done it, Yuma was dead. And Ajay finally felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. One that had settled there in Durgesh. One that had fought to drag him under and drown him—and had nearly succeeded.

Ajay took in a deep breath and felt at ease, even though he knew they had a long, hard road ahead of them. Pagan’s sovereignty still loomed over Kyrat. But right now, in this moment, Ajay would let himself off of the hook, rejoice in what they had accomplished.

Sabal steered Ajay through the gathered throng, clasping arms with those around him, offering words of gratitude and congratulations, and expressing condolences for those lost. They finally made it to the building the Golden Path had set up as a medical center after greeting what seemed like every soldier along the way. There, Sabal set Ajay down onto one of the beds. Ajay could feel himself instantly drifting. Maybe the excitement had been too much after everything that had happened. A medic came hurrying over and set about stitching and bandaging Ajay’s shoulder.

Sabal pulled up a chair and addressed Ajay. “Thank you, brother.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Ajay’s breath hitched as the medic’s needle stabbed into his tender flesh. “I wanted this as much as you did.”

“Even still, I owe you my gratitude. This changes everything. Now we are only one step away from taking down Pagan’s regime for good. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“It’s nothing you couldn’t have done without me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Sabal replied, then added candidly, “You are your father’s son, Ajay. He would be proud.”

“Thanks,” Ajay replied softly.

The medic finished his work and ordered Ajay to bed rest for a couple of days. As exhausted as he was, Ajay was only too happy to comply, laying back on the bed and closing his eyes. Sabal offered his thanks to the medic and stood, making for the door. He hadn’t gone two steps before he halted and turned back.

“Oh, and Ajay?”

Ajay rolled his head over on his pillow to look at Sabal.

“I never got a chance to tell you in there.”

“Tell me? Tell me what?”

“Thank you, for saving my life.” Sabal dipped his head in heartfelt gratitude.

Ajay laughed drowsily. “I owed you.”

For Sabal had saved Ajay’s life in more ways than one. Not only had he saved his body from Yuma’s clutches, but his mind as well. Even with Ajay wrestling against him, Sabal had dragged Ajay out of that lightless pit. It was only fitting that Ajay returned the favor.

Sabal smiled back. “Get well, brother. When you’re ready, come find me. We have work to do.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ajay smirked with steel in his gaze.

Half-snorting, Sabal simply nodded once and left, leaving Ajay to get some rest.

Ajay stared up at the crumbling roof overhead, the occurrences of the past day truly starting to sink in.

Everything was going to be different now, Ajay could feel it. He wasn’t a boy playing soldier anymore. Through her lies, Yuma had opened Ajay’s eyes to the truth. He had been in over his head. He had been fighting a war he hadn’t even known why he was fighting. But now he knew. Knew that his mother had led him home, had led him to the Golden Path. Whether by pure coincidence or divine providence, Ajay wasn’t sure. Maybe a bit of both. But in losing his last remaining family, Ajay had gained a new one in the rebels, in Sabal and Amita. And they were worth fighting for. Worth dying for. As horrific as the last few months had been, Ajay regretted nothing. His crucible had changed him for the better in the end.

He could never—would never—go back to what he was before.

And now Ajay would use his newfound skills, his newfound conviction to finish what he had started—to take down Pagan Min. Ajay had overcome so much that Pagan’s threat seemed diminished by comparison. Still worthy of heed, yes, but not so overwhelming as it had once been. Pagan was just a man. And he would fall just as Yuma had. Whether by Ajay’s hand or someone else’s, Pagan would die.

His days were now numbered.

That comforting thought was accompanied by one other as Ajay finally let himself drift off to sleep. One that he would cling to with absolute surety in the trying days ahead—

_This is real._

**THE END**

* * *

 

Thanks so much guys for reading and sticking with me until the end! I hope you enjoyed it! I can’t believe how long this story ended up being. Originally, I had planned to end it right after Sabal talks Ajay down and Ajay sort of regains his mind. But then I felt like I needed to have Ajay really come full circle and take Yuma out and the rest of it just sort of came to me. Anyway, I really appreciate all of your comments along the way. It’s things like that that keep me going, so thanks again. You guys are the best!


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